Distance
by Grace Reid
Summary: The past and the present become a bit convoluted for poor Remus. The distance between what is real and what is merely a memory continues to shrink. James/Remus & Harry/Remus friendly. Boysex.


Dedicated with hugs and kisses to the ever-lovely Barukode and JFig. They read this in bits and pieces a very long time ago, and I didn't think I'd ever finish it. Let me tell you, it feels sweet. Like French kissing in the rain or some other equally awesome shit. Reviews and constructive criticism will be loved and appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.  
Don't sue me. I promise you'll be disappointed. The last thing I need is you crying on my front porch because your settlement is in costume jewelry and Boca burgers.  
& - Just to let you know, this contains BOYSEX. Yum, right? But, I guess if you're not into that sort of thing, I'd click that 'BACK' button right about now before we get in too far.

There were times when he looked at Harry and saw only James. The memories that surged though him were so strong that they often took his breath away. How could it be like this after so many years? Seeing that face after so long didn't tear him apart, but the pile of buried emotion and the ache of desolate loneliness clawed him up inside until he wondered if it would ever be too much to bear.

There were other times when he looked at Harry and saw only Lilly's eyes; they seemed to judge him from beyond the grave. They asked questions that he couldn't answer. "Why do you do this to yourself, Remus? It's not healthy," Lilly's eyes asked him one day. He shook his head. He didn't know.

When Lilly's eyes left, inside of the boy's body at the end of class that day, he started packing.

"Expecto-Expectoo…," and Harry collapsed, eyes rolling back and shivering faintly as the dementor closed the distance between them, feeling for the place where his soul lay. Lupin was paralyzed, rooted the spot behind the old trunk, unable to help, unable to _move_ until the dementor's thick hood slid back, revealing discolored bone.

"Expecto Patronum!" he roared, holding off the creature before sending it back into the heavy chest. His gaze slowly turned to Harry, still unconscious, albeit shaking; and kneeling beside his body, prone on the stone floor, he allowed his eyes to travel the length of his student. Lupin sighed reflectively, mind drifting back to another time, where he knelt before a dark-haired boy: when he closed his eyes he could still feel the faint scratch of coarse hair against his nose; he could still taste something heady and bitter in the back of his throat.

When came back from his reverie, he didn't even realize that he had undone the clasp of the boy's robes; he was trailing spindly fingers over Harry's chest and neck, warming the cold skin and his own cold heart. Harry stirred, and Remus, jerking his hand away, managed to look innocent when he stared into his green eyes with the appropriate concern. As he helped Harry to his feet, the feel of Harry's hands on him shot up his arms, and when Harry smiled and wished him goodnight with a mouthful of sweet chocolate, all the blood coursing through his veins like liquid fire somehow ended up in his cock.

That night was filled with images of snowball fights and hot tea in the Gryffindor common room, of awkward firsts and enthusiastic seconds, the scenes flashing before his eyes in rapid succession. When Remus whimpered, arching into his self-induced climax, he felt hands on top of his own pulling deliberately and firmly on his cock. His face was pressed against the soft planes of a boyish chest, but he couldn't tell whose it was: past was too firmly entwined with present.

"James?" He gasped as a wave of sensation swept through him; but the name came out sounding like a question. Even he wasn't sure who was who anymore. The realization was frightening.

"How well did you know him?" Harry asked quietly, unsurely, as he leaned over the edge of the old bridge on the outskirts of the campus. Lupin sighed. How well did he know James? He knew the hot recesses of his mouth, if it meant anything to Harry; the soft waves of hair that framed his face, his low voice that rumbling deep in his chest. He supposed he knew James as well as anybody could-_inside_ and out. But he didn't say that, instead he whispered

"James and I were close," and he choked on his next words, "We were…as close as you could be." He stopped nervously-had he said too much?

Harry nodded sagely, comforted by the knowledge that this man had known his father-it made him feel at ease around Professor Lupin. Professor Lupin understood him, he thought, understood his longing and sense of loss. And for some absurd reason, it made him feel safe. Harry leaned over the side of the bridge and Lupin stared, transfixed at the curve of his spine, the gentle rise of his ass. He murmured something unintelligible.

Remus sighed, arching his back in response to James's teasing, knowing it was just the reaction his friend intended to coax from him. James sucked and licked at the inside of Remus's ankles, the backs of his knees-bit down hard into a particularly fleshy section of his thigh. Remus moaned unabashedly and James chuckled as he watched muscles tense, hips shift; Remus was beginning to rub himself against the mattress, his strokes becoming firmer each time he wasn't chastised for it. A firm hand on his lower back and a harsh growl in his ear ended the delicious friction of cotton against cock; fingernails scraped down his arms, he could feel James's own erection hard against his hip-hot and hard and urgent. Lips, wet with spit were running all over his back. Remus couldn't remember being so turned on, blood boiled beneath his skin, but he needed see James, to touch him…

Slick fingers, roughened by years of riding brooms were suddenly inside of him; it felt divine, but Remus knew that James' thick cock would feel even better. Groaning wantonly, and frankly, quite loudly, he reveled in the feel of the digits stroking languidly over that one spot inside of him. Apparently James felt he was ready enough; he just felt like being a fucking tease.

"I need you, James," Remus said, nearly sobbing as the boy above him chuckled wickedly, enjoying seeing his lover in such a state. James' favorite hobby was taunting Remus when he was out of his mind with lust.

"I need you-please!" He tried again, knowing that James got hot off of hearing him beg. "What do you need, Moony?" James tried to coax more of the shameless pleading from him with his quiet question, his lips and tongue inside of Remus' ear, his voice vibrating inside of the soft conch.

"I-I need…"

"Pr-Professor?" Harry questioned, concerned. "It's raining, Professor, aren't you going to head inside?"

Lilly's eyes were concerned too. "I'm so sorry, Remus," they said sympathetically. "But when will you stop doing this to yourself?"


End file.
